


Sex Marathons and Stefan's Breakdown

by fragilelittleteacup



Series: Beyond, After, Together [2]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Blood Drinking, Bodily Fluids, Bondage, Crack, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Gags, Kink Negotiation, M/M, No Lube, Objectification, Pain Kink, Public Sex, Riding, Rough Sex, Stranger Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, damon and enzo have a lot of sex, literally every sex position ever, stefan is distressed, this fic is pretty much what it says on the tin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 15:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilelittleteacup/pseuds/fragilelittleteacup
Summary: They've got a lot of lost time to make up for.(OR: Damon getting fucked six ways to sunday)





	1. Chapter 1

Enzo arched off the bed as Damon pushed into him, his mouth falling open, letting out a long sigh.

“That never feels any less amazing,” he said dazedly, less to Damon and more to himself.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Damon smirked, draping himself over Enzo, moving his hips in a slow, but constant, motion–exactly what broke Enzo apart, every single time. “Hey,” he dragged his lips over Enzo’s neck, tongue wetting skin, filthy and intimate, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Yeah?” Enzo breathed, his head tipping to the side.

“Stefan wants us to come over for dinner.”

“Why the hell,” Enzo whispered, as Damon pulled his arms above his head, held his wrists, “are you thinking about your _brother_ right now?”

“I was thinking,” Damon murmured darkly, lustfully, “we never did this at home.”

Enzo laughed breathlessly. Damon enjoyed doing this. Attempting to have conversations while they were fucking. It made everything even more erotic, somehow, trying to talk sense while they were panting like dogs.

“Goddamn, Damon-”

“I want everyone to hear us,” Damon was still moving slowly, slick sounds filling the air, “I want everyone to know what we do when we’re alone.”

Enzo sucked in a sharp breath as Damon pushed deeper, harder. Ordinarily, he’d be happy to play this game, especially when _he_ was the one on top–but right now, he couldn’t think past anything but the warmth inside him, the burn and the stretch and the spark, the need for Damon to go faster, _now-_

“Sweetheart,” Enzo breathed, “I love you, and I will happily fuck you on every available surface that your home offers, but right now I need you to _shut up_ and _fuck me_ -”

Damon laughed, and did.

Enzo’s legs fell open as Damon moved faster. He loved this. Letting himself be weak, be limp under Damon, let his boyfriend do as he pleased. He’d never been like this with anyone else. Never let anyone else control him, not since Augustine, or even before Augustine. He’d never trusted anyone enough, and certainly never another man.

No one but Damon.

 

They made love until it was night, until they were both saturated with sweat and exhausted. Enzo could feel his legs straining, his lower back aching, his cock on fire–he _needed_ to come, so badly that there was nothing else in the world but _this–_ but Damon just kept going, on and on, gasping nonsense into Enzo’s skin, both of them moaning shamelessly.

There was lots to be said for vampire stamina, really.

Enzo eventually grew tired of Damon dragging this out as long as possible, and flipped them over, climbing onto Damon and doing what he loved best; riding them both to completion. Damon came inside him, and Enzo came over them both, crying out towards the ceiling, loud enough that the neighbours were certainly going to file that noise complaint they’d been threatening for the past three weeks. But, honestly, what could they say? _Please, sirs, you’re having too much of a fantastic sex life. We simply cannot allow it._

He collapsed onto Damon, tired, floating in a post-orgasmic haze, wrapped in a warm embrace.

They lay there together, just breathing, just staying like that, Damon still inside Enzo.

 “You’re heavy,” Damon mumbled, eventually, arms falling onto the bed as he gave up on cuddling.

“Ever the romantic, Damon,” Enzo replied with a half-asleep smile, kissing Damon messily, with an open mouth, before he slid off Damon with a wince.

“You alright?” Damon asked quietly, and Enzo smiled, loving that Damon was still over-protective, was still so cautious about hurting him.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Enzo promised, as he lay down and felt Damon’s arm circle him, “it’ll heal.”

“Mm,” Damon hummed, “good.”

Enzo ran his hand slowly up and down Damon’s body, cataloguing the smoothness of his white, hairless chest. Damon looked like a vampire. He looked like one of those teenage heartthrob vampire parodies that were so popular nowadays. Enzo felt that he himself just appeared a normal man, perhaps a British tourist in America, and personally loved the anonymity of his own face, but Damon… looked almost as if he’d been born to be immortal, born to beautiful forever. He’d never be able to blend into a crowd, never be able to play at being human. He was too perfect.

He wondered about this, musing silently, until Damon spoke up;

“So, what do you think?”

“About what?”

“About going home.”

Enzo smirked. “The part where we visit your brother, or where I fuck you on every available surface?”

“Both, if you can manage it.”

“Is that a challenge?” Enzo lifted his head, grinned up at Damon, “I hope you know what you’re getting into. I never back down from a dare.”

Damon raised an eyebrow smugly, “Neither do I.”

“Stefan’s in for a surprise, then.”

“He certainly is.”

 

***

 

They did go back to the Salvatore House for a dinner, which was homely and enjoyable until Elena pulled Enzo aside afterwards and said, “I’m so sorry, about what you experienced in Augustine captivity.”

He smiled thinly, still shocked by his own reluctance to discuss this with anyone who wasn’t Damon. Obviously, she didn’t intend any insult or harm, but he would rather have pretended it hadn’t happened than wallow in the pity of anyone who knew.

“Thanks, love,” he said, anyway, “but I’m fine now.”

She smiled, in a caring way that came across to him as condescendingly sympathetic, and he walked off, escaped into Damon’s room.

“You’re upset,” Damon frowned, putting down the book he’d been reading, “What’s wrong?”

Enzo fell down onto the bed next to him, arms splayed above his head. He sighed tiredly.

“I’m not used to other people knowing. About Augustine.”

Damon’s expression sobered up entirely, and he nodded solemnly, “That’s fair.”

“I just wish I wouldn’t have to talk about it again, you know?”

“Sure, I get that.” Damon’s hand wandered onto his chest, fingertips rubbing at fabric, trying to get to the skin beneath, “Any way I could possibly improve your mood, oh loving boyfriend of mine…?”

Enzo smiled up at him, loving the way Damon could turn the darkest of moods into the happiest. Damon smirked back, and pulled his shirt off.

 

It was rough and dirty, Enzo holding Damon down and making him come, then continuing until he was finished as well. By that stage, Damon had gotten hard again–they reversed, Enzo facedown, gripping the pillow, back arched as Damon’s hands held him down by the waist, pleading with open-mouthed desperation-

“More, Damon, _please_ -”

After that, they remembered their sex challenge, the sky was the limit.

Whenever the house was empty or Stefan and Elena were busy with something else, Damon and Enzo would take the opportunity. Sometimes, they didn’t even make it out of their clothes, and by the time the other two would return, they’d be sitting casually beside each other, as if one of them hadn’t just been buried deeply inside the other. Jeans around their ankles, hands wandering beneath shirts, fabric tearing.

“Shit,” Damon had once gasped, face pressed against a wall, as Enzo came inside him, “I liked that shirt.”

 

***

 

Their constant and adventurous sex lasted an entire week, which was a lot longer than Damon had thought they’d be able to get away with it.

He was innocently lazing on the couch, reading one of Stefan’s diaries, when it was yanked out his hands by the younger brother himself.

“I’ve told you before, will you _stop_ reading those.” Stefan demanded, and put the book down onto the coffee table, harder than he possibly needed to.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Damon smirked, “Did a bunny escape your fearsome vampire claws?”

“Damon!” Stefan shouted, seeming to have lost his composure to frustration, before taking a deep breath to calm himself, and slowly saying, “You and Enzo need to leave.”

“Why?” Damon put a hand to his heart, “I’m _hurt,_ Stefan.”

“Because Elena and I came home yesterday to find you and Enzo having sex in front of the fireplace!”

“I’m irresistible, Stefan,” Damon winked, “he just can’t keep his hands off me.”

Stefan’s expression was thunderous. “Damon, for the love of-”

“Okay, okay,” Damon held up his hands in a picture of dramatic surrender, “we’ll abstain from having sex in shared spaces, I promise.”

Stefan looked wary. “…I don’t believe you.”

“Why not? I’m insulted!”

“The living room, the kitchen, the laundry, the bathroom, my _car_ , my _room-”_

“Hey, my bed was broken!”

“So use one of the many spare rooms we have, Damon!”

“We were in a rush!”

“You two broke _my_ bed!”

“Fine!” Damon threw up his hands, leapt up from the couch. “We’ll go!”

“You can come back, just,” Stefan looked so stressed that it took all of Damon’s effort not to double over with laughter, “when you’ve got this out of your system.”

Damon grinned. “Are you telling me to go on a sex marathon?”

“What,” Stefan began dryly, “you haven’t been already?”

Damon laughed, walking backwards out of the room, arms held out triumphantly, “You ain’t seen nothing yet, brother!”

Stefan called after him, “I’ve seen _too much_ , Damon!”

 

***

 

Damon met Enzo in the Mystic Grill.

Enzo was going out on hunts by himself now, had started to get more confident in controlling himself without Damon’s help. They weren’t like Stefan and Elena; they didn’t hunt rabbits, and they didn’t live off the plastic-wrapped blood waiting in chilled hospital storage. They found someone obviously heading home, and asked them, ‘do you live alone? Is anyone waiting for you?’ If the answer was no, then they’d go home with them, drink their fill, compel the memory from their meal ticket.

Painless, pleasurable, and quick.

They didn’t drink from the same person twice, and they never hurt anybody. They left good memories in their wake, but never anything suspicious.

“Who’d you drink?” Damon asked, somehow managing to make the question sexy.

“Her name was Amelia,” Enzo said, as he sat down, “lovely old lady. Tasted delicious.”

“How old was she?”

“Seventy. Very fit old gal, though.”

Damon wrinkled his nose. He tended to go for the younger, more sexy ones–not that Enzo minded. They were vampires, and it was their nature. Enzo preferred the younger ones too, he just didn’t mind drinking from anyone when an opportunity presented itself. And it just so happened that older people were more likely to live alone and have smaller social circles, amking them ideal prey.

“Hey guys, what can I get you?”

Enzo grinned roguishly at Matt as he approached, “Well, hello, busboy.”

“Hey, Enzo,” Matt replied brightly, pen to his notepad, “hey, Damon.”

“Someone’s very _peppy_ today,” Damon raised his eyebrows at Matt, smirking, “What gorgeous young woman improved your mood?”

Matt glared dryly in response. “None of your business.”

Enzo chuckled. “I’ll grab a chocolate milkshake thanks, darling.”

Matt wrote down the order, grimacing. “Wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

“I’ll get one too,” Damon said, “ _darling.”_

Matt rolled his eyes and walked off. Both Damon and Enzo watched him go.

“Shame he’s so annoying, really,” Damon mused.

“Mm,” Enzo agreed, “he’s got an arse you could quite possibly bounce a quarter off.”

“Oh!” Damon exclaimed, “I forgot to tell you, we have to leave town.”

Enzo frowned. “Why?”

“Stefan doesn’t want us hanging around anymore,” Damon explained slyly, “I think we broke him.”

Enzo smirked, fully aware what Damon was referring to. “Was it the bed?”

“The fireplace.”

“Ah…” Enzo sat forward slowly, his voice a drawling purr, “but it _was_ worth it.”

Damon matched his sly expression in kind. “Damn right. In fact, I believe that Stefan maybe have even _encouraged_ me to go on a wild rampage of debauchery with you.”

“That sounds absolutely _delicious_ , sweetheart,” Enzo’s eyes were bright, excited, “where should we start?”

“What would you say to some roleplay?”

“Kinky,” Enzo grinned, “what kind of roleplay? Daddy?”

“Human.”

Enzo frowned, staring at Damon with undisguised confusion. “…What?”

“We pretend to be human. Then we pick up some unsuspecting jock-”

“-and eat him.” Enzo finished, nodding.

“No. Then, he fucks me.”

Enzo hummed in consideration. “Interesting. And I watch?”

“You join in.”

“After the human’s finished with you?” Enzo reached across the table, took Damon’s chin in his hand, brushed a thumb over Damon’s lips, “I don’t like waiting, sweetheart, especially for you.”

“You fuck me…” Damon flicked out his tongue, wet against Enzo’s skin, “…at the same time he does.”

Enzo went still, staring thoughtfully at Damon, eyes full of lust. “You want to pretend to be human. Be manhandled. Used.”

He said the final word slowly, letting it roll around his mouth, vowels long and suggestive. Damon smiled, tilting his head into Enzo’s hand, so that he was looking up at Enzo through his eyelashes. It was further than inappropriate.

“Bingo bango,” Damon drawled, “baby.”

Matt chose that exact moment to appear with the milkshakes.

“Uh,” he said, standing away from the table, cheeks pink, “here’s your… milkshakes…?”

“Thanks, honey,” Damon took the milkshakes cheerfully. Enzo, to the embarrassment of Matt, did not remove his hand from Damon’s face. He ran away as soon as the milkshakes were out of his hands.

“One thing makes me curious, however,” Enzo continued, as if Matt had never appeared, “why not just involve another vampire? Then you truly could be manhandled as you wish.”

Damon sighed, tilting his head out of Enzo’s grip. He pushed Enzo’s milkshake towards him, and had a sip of his own, before saying;

“Probably ‘cause I don’t trust any other vampire to have control of me the way you do.” He said it while looking down into his milkshake, shy and reluctant. “I just want to pretend for a night, that’s all.”

Enzo stared at him, entirely captivated. He understood all too well what Damon was asking for; if he weren’t so damaged himself, and too afraid to be touched by anyone except Damon, he’d have asked for the same thing. And it was so _tempting,_ the idea of having Damon laid out so willingly, two men kissing and biting and touching him. His body for the taking, so slender and pale and beautiful.

At first, when he’d been sleeping with Damon, he’d found It difficult to disassociate bodies and physicality with memories of Augustine–but now, sex was sex, and torture was torture. The past was the past, and the present was all-encompassing. For Enzo, Sex with Damon wasn’t just good; it was _everything._

Sordid images filled Enzo’s mind, and he stared, dazed, at Damon.

“Listen,” Damon sighed, “if you’re not interested-”

“God,” Enzo breathed, “I’m a few seconds away from taking you, right here and now.”

Damon blinked. Then, not one to be shocked for too long, he grinned.

“Bathroom?” he suggested.

“Dirty. I like it,” Enzo agreed.

 

***

 

Enzo slammed Damon against the bathroom wall, grabbing Damon’s thighs and lifting them around his waist–he pushed into Damon without preparation, which wasn’t something they did often, but sometimes it was what Damon wanted, and Enzo would always oblige him. Enzo didn’t understand it; when he was bottoming, he preferred for it to be as close to painless as possible. But, once he’d made certain that Damon did, in fact, enjoy it when it hurt, he saw no reason to deprive his lover that pleasure.

Damon cried out sharply, face buried in Enzo’s shoulder.

They were silent for a moment, just breathing, and Enzo was so aware of him, of how close they were. Damon’s cry turned to quiet whimpers, breaths fast and pained, as he adjusted to the burn.

“Do it,” Damon whispered, breaking the spell. Enzo slowly inched his hips forward. Damon whined, so tight that Enzo was dizzy, and for a moment was certain he’d come.

He hissed in a breath, grabbed Damon’s hair, and started properly fucking him, thrusting fast and hard into his warm body, leaving Damon gasping and flailing in shock, shuddering helplessly. Thuds sounded, each one accompanied by Damon’s broken whimpers and cries. People walking past the toilets could hear them, Enzo was sure. It only made him move faster, only made him hungrier.

“What happened to,” Damon moaned brokenly, voice muffled by fabric, “Oh _Christ_ , what happened to bedding me like a prince?”

“I’m only giving my prince what he wants,” Enzo breathed, “What he needs.”

“Yes,” Damon panted, “oh _god_ yes, Enzo-”

Enzo bit down into Damon’s neck, started drinking.

 

They walked out of the bathroom, grinning widely, much to the horror of Matt, who couldn’t look them in the eyes. Caroline and Tyler, who were sitting at a table, were both shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Jeremy glared icily at them from behind the bar.

Damon, shirt half undone and his hair messy, the very _picture_ of sin itself, bowed dramatically.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, ladies and gentlemen!”

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Enzo leaned against the bar, drink in one hand, the alcohol untouched; he wanted to be stone cold sober for this, because Damon was putting all of his trust in him.

He was scouting.

Damon had been entirely serious in his request of a roleplay threesome, and Enzo was more than happy to provide such an occasion, but he had to find someone that Damon would be safe with. Someone who wouldn’t hurt Damon, and who would do what Enzo said. He could compel them, but still–he wouldn’t be letting a sadist anywhere near Damon. Not with how intimate this night was to be.

He knew that, on some level, this was his own paranoia. But he wanted Damon to be safe, and no matter the lengths he had to go to, it was his highest priority.

He had his eye on a blonde man, dancing at the edge of the fray, who seemed more concerned with having a good time than finding someone to sleep with. He was built, muscular, but relatively plain, with long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. He looked like a surfer, the kind of college dropout you’d find on a beach somewhere. Enzo had watched him escort a young woman out of the club, after noticing she was becoming ill from all the alcohol, even paying for her to leave in a taxi. He seemed like a good man, as far as first impressions went.

Enzo put down his drink, made his way through the mass of dancing bodies, and slid his hands around the man’s waist. He got a grin in response, a body moving against his. The man wasn’t drunk enough to be doing this for the hell of it; he was attracted to men. That, obviously, was a requirement for this occasion.

Enzo looked into his eyes, felt the pull and the connection. Watched the man’s lips part, his face go slack, his body still.

“Let me bite you. Do not panic.”

“I won’t panic,” the man repeated slowly.

Enzo leaned down, still moving to the music, and sunk his teeth into the man’s neck. To anyone else, it may have looked as if he were kissing the stranger; in reality, he was checking for the taste of vervain. Finding none, he straightened up, and looked the man in the eye.

“You will answer me honestly.” Enzo commanded softly. He didn’t need to be heard above the music. Every word he spoke was etched into this man’s mind at an unconscious level.

“I will answer you honestly,” the man promised.

They slowed to a sway, Enzo’s hands on his waist, the man watching expectantly. People around them continued jumping and grinding, but they were a world away, as Enzo submerged this man in his consciousness.

“What’s your name?”

“Ben,” the man replied, “my real name’s Benedict, but I like Ben better. Benedict was my grandfather’s name.”

Enzo smirked. “Fair enough.”

“Can I know your name?”

“Yes. My name is Lorenzo.”

“Cool name. You’re _hot,_ by the way, dude. Do you want to sleep with me? I don’t have relationships with people, but I like to have sex. I’d like to have sex with you.”

He was chatty for someone under compulsion. It happened occasionally; if a human was particularly relaxed, they had fewer emotional and psychological barriers to keep them from being compelled, which meant they tended to supply far more information than was needed.

“I would like to have sex with you, Ben.”

Ben grinned. “Cool.”

“Have you ever had a threesome?”

“Yeah. My old girlfriend and her gay best friend, we all slept together once. It was awkward because he wasn’t into her, you know? Ruined the dynamic. And I was more into him than her…” Ben looked regretful. “We broke up pretty quick after that.”

“Would you like to have another threesome?”

“With you?”

“And my boyfriend, yes.”

“Wow,” Ben’s eyes were starry, his smile awed, “this is really cool. And yeah, I would. Like, a lot.”

“Do you enjoy hurting people sexually?”

Ben’s smile faded immediately. “No, man. No way. I dated a guy that was into that once, I didn’t like it. I worship people I sleep with, you know? I like kissing. I like making people feel good.”

Enzo smiled. “Perfect. Do you give or receive, with men?”

“I give, man. I can take it if the guy wants me too, though. I’ll do anything, really.” Ben shrugged. “I’d let you fuck me. You’re pretty hot.”

“Alright.” Enzo strengthened his compulsion, to ensure that this man was entirely under his control for this next command;

“You will accompany me to the motel I have chosen. You will respect myself and my boyfriend, and you will do as we say throughout the entire night. If my boyfriend says the word, ‘red’, you are to stop having sex with him. If we bite you or each other, you are not to panic, even if there is blood. If you wish to stop having sex, you are to be honest and tell us. You will not address my boyfriend directly, and will speak only to me. You will not remember I have compelled you, but you will follow my commands. Do you understand?”

Ben nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, man. Absolutely. And thanks heaps for the opportunity, for real.”

 

***

 

When they arrived at the motel, Damon was where Enzo had left him; kneeling on the bed, blindfolded and gagged with ribbons of red silk, entirely naked. Damon had wanted his hands to be cuffed, but Enzo knew he wouldn’t have been able to cope, seeing Damon restrained like that. He’d agreed to Damon’s wrists being bound with red silk, because he knew Damon could break the fabric at a moment’s notice if he needed to. They’d rehearsed everything; Damon breaking the ribbons around his wrists, biting through the gag, and pulling the blindfold off. Just to prove he could escape if he wanted.

“I want this,” Damon had said, “but if you don’t think you can handle it, we don’t have to do the whole bondage thing. We can go another way.”

Enzo had smiled, kissed him. “I’ll be fine, my darling.”

Now, seeing him like this, Enzo was glad they were exploring this new avenue of pleasure. When he looked at Damon, he didn’t think of Augustine; all he could see was temptation. Damon’s white body, slender and beautiful, bound with shimmering red fabric. He looked like an offering, a sacrificial virgin. It had been Damon’s idea, that the human should address only Enzo, and Enzo saw the appeal now; Damon wanted to be used as a body of sexual desire, utterly objectified. Seeing him like this, Enzo understood. Damon’s cock was pressing against his lower stomach, and he was trembling in anticipation. This was possibly the most turned on Enzo had ever seen Damon become, without even being touched.

“Holy shit,” Ben breathed, “he’s gorgeous. Do I really get to have sex with him?”

“You do.” Enzo replied. “Take your clothes off.”

They undressed, Ben doing so with notable haste. They went to the bed, kneeling on either side of Damon.

“Wow,” Ben breathed, sliding a palm down Damon’s chest. “He looks perfect.”

When Ben took Damon’s cock in his hand, Damon whined, and Enzo smiled, sliding his hands around Damon’s waist, and then up his chest, to rub at his nipples. Damon whimpered again, and Enzo breathed out shakily. He had been unprepared, for how much this would affect him; he’d assumed that he would just be performing to Damon’s desires, and would not actually enjoy this.

He had been very, very wrong.

All he wanted to do was push Damon down into the bed, and start fucking him.

 

They touched Damon until he was littered with red marks, a blush creeping over his body; until he was breathing heavily through the gag, whimpering whenever Ben or Enzo took mercy on him and decided to stroke his cock. Enzo’s fingers were buried deep inside him, and he was shaking, shuddering as Enzo opened him up, made him loose. Lube made him sticky and slick, and Enzo rubbed against him occasionally, leaving Damon moaning fitfully, begging wordlessly–and Enzo was _so close,_ so very near doing what Damon wanted. But he knew he needed to drag this out. Make Damon wait.

So, they did. They made Damon wait. They made him whine, gasp, and cry out. He rocked into Ben’s hand, and then back onto Enzo’s fingers, and then could do nothing but shake as hands assaulted him on both sides, fingers deep inside him and a palm slowly driving him to insanity. How Enzo wished he could pull off the blindfold, just to see Damon’s beautiful blue eyes–and how he wished he could pull off the gag, so that he could kiss that perfect mouth, or so he could have Damon on his knees, looking up while Enzo fucked his throat.

But tonight wasn’t about him. Tonight was about Damon.

“Mn,” Damon was moaning, face tight with desperation, “Mmnh…!”

“Can we start fucking him?” Ben asked, breathlessly. He was very good with his hands; he drew his thumb over the top of Damon’s cock, making Damon’s hips jerk frantically, a shocked gasp hitting the air.

Enzo breathed against Damon’s neck, nodded at Ben. “Lie down.”

Ben did, eyes wide and eager.

Enzo took hold of Damon’s hips, put his lips to Damon’s ear and whispered, “Are you ready?”

Damon nodded desperately, fast and needy. Enzo smirked, and guided him forward by the waist, until Damon was straddling Ben. Enzo locked eyes with the human, nodded at him.

He watched, hypnotised, hungry, as Ben guided himself into Damon. As Damon stiffened, craning his neck towards the ceiling, crying out. Enzo pressed himself against Damon’s back, kissing his neck, holding him. He felt Damon’s body rock as Ben started fucking upwards into him, pistoling his hips up and down, hands anchored on Damon’s hips. He felt Damon shake. He felt Damon breathe, fast and hard, gasping.

“Fuck, yeah,” Ben hissed, “god, look at him.”

Enzo smiled against Damon’s skin, licked his tongue out to taste.

“He’s…” Ben breathed, face filled with awe, “fuck, he’s _beautiful_ ,”

“He is,” Enzo agreed.

 

Enzo held himself back for longer than he’d assumed he’d be able to.

He watched Damon moan and gasp and cry out, watched Damon’s body shake with thrusts, watched the come and lube dripping out of him, making his thighs slippery. He watched hands grip Damon’s body, watched the face of a rapt man as he fucked the most beautiful stranger he’d ever met. And he held back, still, no matter how close he was, no matter how much he needed this. He touched Damon with only his hands, fingers roaming his body, and he did not touch himself.

It was only when Damon tipped his head to the side, searching blindly for him, that Enzo couldn’t hold back any longer.

Damon hummed through the gag, a broken whine that sounded like _please._

Enzo reached up, pulled the gag from Damon’s lips.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Damon’s mouth was open wide, and Enzo couldn’t resist dipping his fingers inside, feeling Damon suck on his skin, “god, yes, Enzo, I need you inside me,”

Enzo chuckled, withdrew his fingers. “Such a whore for me, sweetheart.”

Damon moaned unashamedly. “ _Yes.”_

Enzo put the gag back into Damon’s mouth, tightened it. He pushed Damon down, intoxicated by the way Damon went willingly, so submissive and pliable.

“What’re you doing?” Ben breathed, arms rising to clutch Damon as he moved his hips, “Oh god, are you going to fuck him too?”

Enzo smirked down at him. “I am.”

He put a hand on the small of Damon’s back, held him still. He slowly, slowly, pushed into him. It was so tight, such a stretch, that he breathed out shakily, nearly coming just by the feeling, just seeing the way Damon stiffened and cried out helplessly.

Ben’s eyes fluttered, “ _fuck.”_

“Mm, mm, mn,” Damon was moaning brokenly, voice broken apart by panting, “mmnn!”

“It’s alright, my darling,” Enzo promised him breathlessly, running a hand up his back, “just breathe. Breathe for me.”

Damon did, and Enzo waited for him to get used to the stretch. Two men inside him.

They were still, for a long moment.

Then, Enzo moved his hips. Damon immediately moaned, shaking. Enzo knew what Damon needed, so he moved again.

And again, and again–until he was fucking Damon properly, and Ben was fucking him too, and all Damon could do was lie there helplessly, body shaking with the thrusting of two cocks buried deep inside him. And _God,_ Enzo could hardly bear it; Damon was such a whore for them, legs spread so wide, back curved enticingly, so open and dripping. And the _noises_ he made. Helpless, desperate, and utterly sinful. The great Damon Salvatore, who had done so much and killed so many, was, in this moment, nothing more than a slut. Nothing more than a body to fuck.

Enzo kissed his neck, bit down, tasted his blood. Drank deeply, swallowing. Thrusting his hips so fast, so forcefully.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, “you’re mine, Damon, and I will do with you what I please.”

 

***

 

Eventually, they both came inside Damon.

Enzo sent Ben off to have a shower, and turned Damon over. He pulled off the gag, tore the blindfold off, and unbound Damon’s wrists. Damon was limp, open-mouthed, breathing heavily. His eyes were half-lidded and dazed, his body covered in blood and come and lube and bites. Fluid was pouring out of him, a sticky mess, and Enzo wished he could get hard again, just so he could keep fucking him.

He noticed Damon was no longer hard. Enzo had no clue when Damon had come. It could’ve been any time in the last hour, as they fucked him, as they drove him past the edge. It was a good thing Damon was a vampire; Enzo couldn’t imagine what this would’ve done to a human.

“My darling,” he said, drawing a thumb across Damon’s lips, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, baby,” Damon smiled with drugged bliss, his words slurred and raw, “I’m great.”

Enzo smiled, and leaned down to kiss him. Damon barely seemed able to kiss back; his mouth was open, still gasping for air. Enzo felt a swell of concern, and he tilted his head, offering his neck to Damon.

“Drink up, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna,” Damon mumbled, “let me be this way for a little longer. Feels _good,_ Enz.”

Enzo smiled, but his expression faltered. For a moment, seeing Damon so weak and loose-limbed, he remembered the cells; he remembered how feeble Damon had been, how he’d lain there after the torture, silent and broken. Enzo looked to the side, trying to suppress the memories, trying to keep them at bay.

 _This is a good thing,_ he thought, _don’t ruin it._

“Hey,” Damon murmured, reaching up to lazily stroke Enzo’s cheek, “hey, I’m good. I promise.”

Enzo met his eyes, saw the quiet affection in Damon’s grin.

“Lie with me?” Damon asked.

Enzo smiled back, kissed him, and did.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was possibly the most plotless, porn-filled fic I have ever written  
> wow  
> HOPE YOU ENJOYED


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